


I Feel like I’m the Worst so I Always Act like I’m the Best

by SlimeySquishySquid



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (2020)
Genre: M/M, One Sided Attraction, non-consensual somnophilia-type touching, nongraphic torture, unrequited feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:28:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22911751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlimeySquishySquid/pseuds/SlimeySquishySquid
Summary: Robotnik raised his hand, index finger extended, though Tom couldn’t see the gesture anyway. “If you weren’t such a mulish proletariat I would not have had to resort to such extreme measures. You brought this on yourself.”Tom groaned, but he still didn’t move. “Don’t use all of your vocabulary in one sentence, Dr. Robot-ski.”
Relationships: Dr. Ivo Robotnik | Dr. Eggman/Tom Wachowski
Comments: 26
Kudos: 82





	I Feel like I’m the Worst so I Always Act like I’m the Best

**Author's Note:**

> Here everyone is shipping Robotnik with Stone and I’m like… BUT TOM. I’m not as witty or smart as the writers of the movie so everyone will no doubt be out of character. Despite that, let me corrupt a family friendly movie for you with this trash. (:
> 
> I don’t know what the timeline of the story is. Sometime after the first movie when Robotnik finds his way back to Earth I guess!

Robots weren’t just good for tracking targets or pursuing blue quilled aliens. They could also capture a quarry and hold them hostage until he was ready to interrogate them. And when holding his prey for him, his machines couldn’t be coerced, threatened, or bought off. They were perfect beings utterly under his control. It was one of many reasons Robotnik preferred them to human company. 

As he neared the metal cell containing the man that had thwarted him so completely the past week, Robotnik tried to quell his pounding heart. Logically he knew it was a very human response - adrenaline coursed through him at the idea of sparring with the Green Hills sheriff again - but he resented it. He was _above_ the emotions and physiological problems that plagued the flesh bags that surrounded him. It was yet another reason he hated Wachowski so much. 

Tom was awake and alert when he reached the prison, and Robotnik smiled meanly at him. The police officer still had dried blood on the right corner of his mouth, and Robotnik didn’t miss the way he favored his left leg. His clothes were rumpled, and bags were under his eyes. In the three days that Tom had been in his custody he hadn’t fared well. “Shall we try this again?” Robotnik asked, and Tom’s lips tightened minutely. Of course, Robotnik didn’t miss _that_ either. 

“Where is the alien?” 

Silence met his question, and Robotnik shook his head. “Where is your _friend_ , Tom?” It was always pleasing to witness Wachowski’s reaction to the use of his first name as well as his snark about Sonic and their relationship. “He hasn’t attempted to rescue you. Why are you protecting him when _he_ doesn’t care about _you_?” 

Again, there was no response. But he’d been expecting that. 

With a sigh, Robotnik tapped away at his gloves. The sheriff tensed just before the floor beneath his feet was lit up with an electric current. It wasn’t a fatal shock, but it was enough to make Tom cry out with a shout of pain. 

When Tom recovered from the blast, his brows were furrowed in a deep glare. But there was exhaustion there too, and Robotnik honed in on it. “If you tell me where it is, I’ll spare your wife.” He clicked his heels together and began to pace the length of the cell. He felt Wachowski’s eyes on him the entire time. “If you don’t, I can’t promise that she will remain alive during the alien’s...extraction.” 

Every time he mentioned Maddie it was delightful to witness the passion that filtered through Tom’s eyes. Threatening Tom’s wife always led to such delicious shows of feeling. Robotnik craved it for scientific observation only, of course. It was beyond fascinating the extent to which a male would go for their mate. 

The rage was gone quickly, and instead a tight smirk curled Tom’s lip. “Sorry, were you saying something?” he asked, his tone all innocence. 

The insolence! Robotnik felt himself snort in fury and he again tapped away at his gloves. This time the shock made Tom fall to the floor. Sweat was beginning to bead around the sheriff’s hairline and he shook from the aftershocks, shuddering with gasping breaths. It couldn’t be healthy to be electrocuting someone so frequently. Well, no matter. Tom’s eventual autopsy results would just lead to further scientific discoveries. 

“Test me no further, Wachowski. The next blast won’t be so gentle.” 

Tom still shook, and he made no effort to rise. But he lifted his gaze and smirked again before saying, “At least take me to dinner first.” 

This time he let the electric current hit at the highest voltage and current possible that wouldn’t kill a human. Tom could barely breathe by the time he finally let the shocks subside. The other man lay on the ground, wheezing in agony. 

Robotnik left in a fit of temper, leaving his captive where he lay, telling himself he did not care if Tom died during the night or not. 

* * *

The next day found Tom awake and waiting for his arrival. But the bravado from the first few days of his capture was gone. There was a wariness to his gaze now. No respect, but a flavor of fear that Robotnik just about wanted to _devour_. 

“Are you ready to talk, Tom?” he asked sweetly, clasping his hands behind his back and shifting from his toes to his heels as he waited. 

Tom’s eyes flicked towards his hands, no doubt wondering if he was fingering the buttons on his gloves. Robotnik sneered at the reaction and Tom saw, his cheeks flushing in mortification. 

But then, that hated _resolve_ was back. The police officer’s shoulders squared before he smiled smugly and said, “I think we got a bit too kinky yesterday. We should probably slow down.” 

Robotnik was beyond furious. Seething, he hissed, “It is impossible to underestimate you, Wachowski.” 

His fingers danced along his gloves. Just like with every new day, he had moved on to new torture. A drone flew gracefully up and through the air vent of the cell before targeting Tom. Deploying its weapon systems, two turret guns appeared out the sides of the machine. It was equipped with rubber bullets, but it was sure to _hurt_. 

Despite his injuries and lack of proper nutrition in the past few days, the sheriff was still admirably agile. He dodged the first few pellets, rolling about the cell as the drone began to fire at him. But humans were just so slow and pathetic when compared to the sleek nimbleness of robots and in but a few seconds the bullets began to make contact. 

Tom cried out before curling into a ball, his back bearing the brunt of the onslaught. Robotnik did not let the machine shoot his prisoner _too_ many times, but he probably let it go longer than what most would deem safe. 

A few minutes went by. Robotnik was content to wait. His machine was patient, standing by, ready for his next command. And Tom? Well, he would decide what direction the interrogation went from here. 

When the other man finally moved, he did so with an undignified whine. “I think you broke my rib, you asshole,” he breathed out. It appeared Tom couldn’t uncurl himself, and he didn’t even turn his head to face his jailor. 

Robotnik raised his hand, index finger extended, though Tom couldn’t see the gesture anyway. “If you weren’t such a mulish proletariat I would not have had to resort to such extreme measures. You brought this on yourself.” 

Tom groaned, but he still didn’t move. “Don’t use all of your vocabulary in one sentence, Dr. Robot-ski.” He coughed after he spoke, and then moaned in pain, his body shuddering with spasms of what Robotnik was sure was agony. 

A sort of...fondness tugged at his heart at the same time wrath made his fists clench. Such an extraordinarily loyal creature Tom was. Willing to go through this for an alien he barely knew, for an easily replaceable woman. It was fascinating and infuriating in equal measures. 

“In the land of fools you would be king, Wachowski.” 

A weak bark of laughter escaped the fallen man, but he made no retort. 

It wasn’t mercy that stayed his hand for the rest of the day. He just needed Tom to be able to talk for any interrogation techniques to be effective. If he pushed him too far there was no logical reasoning behind it. 

And he _certainly_ didn’t send in a med tech robot to check on Tom later that night out of worry. And he did _not_ ask Agent Stone to bring his prisoner dinner out of compassion either. It was all in an effort to keep the sheriff alive long enough to draw out the needed information.

Nothing more. 

* * *

Tom was lying on the cot the next evening. He didn’t raise his head when he heard the clack of Robotnik’s boots. But his lips did curl lazily and he hissed out yet another quip. “Why don’t you come in here and fight me fair and square?” Tom chuckled softly and self-deprecatingly at the comment. In his condition there would be no surprise punches like during the battle in his house in Green Hills. 

“I’d prefer a battle of wits, but you appear unarmed,” Robotnik responded easily.

Tom grinned and finally turned his head. His eyes were fever bright. “Ooooh, good one.” He laughed and grimaced from the hurt, his arms moving to wrap around his middle. 

Before Robotnik could begin another round of questioning, Tom continued. “I thought about you today.” 

Robotnik was startled into silence. It wasn’t often he couldn’t find anything to say. Tom had...thought about him? What did that mean? He could feel his heartbeat increasing. Such a piteous _human_ response. 

“Yeah, I thought of you when I took a shit.” 

Scowling, Robotnik felt a sneer tighten his lips. Why did that hurt so much? What in the world was this? He’d have to consult some of his advanced human psychology texts. “Well I didn’t think about you at all, Wachowski,” he answered. Whatever this was, at least it was easy to banter with this man. 

Tom seemed to enjoy repartee. In fact, he rallied, finding strength to sit up and face him. Robotnik hadn’t noticed before now, but Tom was shirtless. Perhaps the med drone had stripped him in order to carry out its examination. Bruises littered the toned body, and Robotnik’s eyes were drawn to the pooling of the blanket in Tom’s crotch. 

“Eyes up here, big guy.” 

Robotnik felt...humiliated. He hadn’t felt like this since facing his elementary bully. He was a genius, dammit. The smartest man in the _world_. Why did Tom make him feel this way? Why did Tom make him _feel_ at all? No other human had affected him so. Perhaps it was his propensity to live through everything that was thrown at him. Tom was a captivating subject, that was for sure. 

Rather than act like he hadn’t been staring, Robotnik decided to go with it. “I was just pitying how there’s so little to cover.” 

Tom sputtered. “Excuse me, but I’ll have you know I’m perfectly average.” 

“That is immediately apparent.” 

Tom faltered, at a loss with how to respond. 

The time for jokes was over. “Put your hands behind your back,” Robotnik demanded. 

Tom seemed to be at war with himself. It wasn’t in his nature to obey his enemy, but perhaps he was taking stock of his injuries. And Robotnik wasn’t demanding to know where Sonic or Maddie was. Instead he had been issued a command.

Robotnik wasn’t sure if he’d rather Tom continue to fight him or accept the orders. Either would be equally enjoyable. 

Slowly, his eyes narrowing at the same time that he moved his arms, Tom clasped his hands behind his back. It must have hurt him to do so, the stretch along his chest and ribs causing him to hiss through clenched teeth. 

Pressing buttons on his gloves in an order that would only make sense to him, Robotnik sent a drone up through the air shaft and into the cell. Tom tensed but did not recoil. _Good boy_. The robot hovered through the air, making its way over towards the captive. Robotnik took note of Tom’s increased breathing rate, the way his eyes darted nervously toward the machine. 

Finally. If Tom didn’t hold his robots in high esteem he at least knew what they could do and _feared_ them. That was good enough. 

The drone extended metal arms and secured handcuffs around Tom’s wrists, snapping them into place and tightening them before it floated back up towards the ceiling. Robotnik placed his hand against the glass wall of the prison as soon as the robot was still. “Dr. Ivo Robotnik,” he stated clearly. 

The glass shimmered before it slid open. “Fancy,” Tom commented. Robotnik ignored him, but was inwardly pleased that Tom’s voice was nervous, an octave higher than normal. 

“Drone 264, if you detect a threat, shoot to maim, not kill.” 

The robot made a small beep and its weapon mechanisms clicked in place to the ready. Tom’s adam’s apple bobbed as he took a small gulp. 

“If you kick me, I’ll break your legs,” Robotnik threatened. Tom watched him with wary eyes as he approached, but again, he did not move. 

Robotnik removed his gloves, placing them on the end of the cot. He did not worry about Tom getting ahold of them. Even if the wily officer managed to grab them he wouldn’t be able to figure out the proper sequence to get the robots to listen. 

Without preamble he leaned forward, long fingers moving over injured ribs. Tom squeaked in surprise, and he fell back onto his bound hands. “Hey hey!”

“Do you want your injuries assessed or not?” 

Tom stared at him with incredulity. “Didn’t your _robot_ do that last night?” 

Robotnik rolled his eyes. “Of course. And though it is far superior to any human doctor, it still would not be as skilled as I. Now shut up and hold still.” 

He began to tap each of Tom’s ribs, tracing over each bruise carefully. Mentally making notes, he helped Tom sit up so that he could inspect his back. If the front was a tableau of blues and purples, the back was a mess of black and indigo. He almost felt regret at the pain that had been inflicted. 

Almost.

“Your tissue is massively bruised and your second rib is cracked.” Tom nodded at his words, not surprised. “You will live.” 

* * *

He gave Tom the day off from any interrogation techniques, but promised himself he would make up for it with his visit tomorrow. This time, as he neared the prison, Robotnik steeled himself. No more gentleness. No more human weakness. He would be as cool and calculating as his machines. 

But the memory of Tom’s skin, so much softer and warmer than the cold metal of his robots, made his fingers tingle. He wanted the sensation of the other man’s skin beneath his fingertips again, wanted to press and prod and study further. It was _maddening_. 

Tom was asleep when he arrived, and Robotnik slowed, loathe to wake him. It was his chance to observe without any pesky resistance on the sheriff’s part. Tom’s breath was slow, his chest hardly moving. Robotnik noticed that he was clothed, a gray shirt no doubt provided by Stone.

The glass barrier kept them far too apart, in his scientific opinion, to research properly. So with a quiet, “Dr. Ivo Robotnik,” the door whooshed open with a quiet hiss and he was in Tom’s cell again. 

There was no drone present to protect him, nor were the cuffs constricting the officer’s movements. The threat of danger almost...thrilled him. Robotnik licked his lips as he came closer, gazing down at Tom’s injured but still handsome face. 

He removed the glove from his right hand, gripping it tightly with trepidation. But his nerves did not stop him from reaching out to card his fingers through Tom’s hair. Agent Stone must have taken Tom out to bathe him yesterday. The sheriff’s hair was clean and free from sweat or grease. It was incredibly soft. Robotnik hadn’t felt anything like it in his life. 

Tender touch seemed to affect Tom’s sleep. Perhaps it shaped his dream. A small smile - an _actual_ smile - appeared. “Maddie…” 

Again, with the hurt. Why did a man yearning for his chosen mate _bother_ him? Wachowski was not his pet. He wasn’t his lover. They weren’t even friends. But it stung him to his very core.

His hand slipped away from the soft strands and moved to feel the stubble that grew along Tom’s jaw. He felt like a child, so fascinated with the simple act of sensation. But it had been so long since he’d touched another. He’d never had any interest to, before now. 

The tip of his finger grazed Tom’s lower lip and he felt a shiver down his spine. The skin of Tom’s lips were smooth and plump. Enticing didn’t begin to describe them. Robotnik leaned down, close enough to feel the barely there breaths escaping from Tom’s nose. 

This was all for the sake of science. It was nothing more than that. Studying human relations was of the utmost importance. It related back to robots somehow, he just knew it…

Closing the gap, Robotnik let his lips press against his sleeping captive. There was no participation on Tom’s end, of course, but despite it there was a jolt of intense pleasure that shot straight to Robotnik’s groin. 

He didn’t have long to revel in his traitorous body’s sensations, for it was then that Tom woke, wide eyes staring up at him in utter horror. 

The sheriff pushed them apart, breathing heavily, staring at him in total disbelief. “What the hell?” he demanded, and Robotnik thought he was quite calm compared to how _he_ would have dealt with such a situation. 

Lies flowed so easily from him, Robotnik didn’t even have a moment to panic. “You didn’t appear to be breathing. It was my understanding that mouth to mouth resuscitation is the standard approach to such a situation.” 

Tom took a deep breath, but seemed to relax. “Well, I’m fine. But thanks.” A long pause. “I guess.” His brows were drawn together in a frown. Thanking his captor didn’t sit well with him. 

He had to pull back, make their relationship clear. Perhaps more to himself than Tom. “Make no mistake, Wachowski. I regard you with an indifference bordering on aversion. If it weren’t for the information I need from you, I would have let you perish.” 

The Green Hills officer smiled at that, and Robotnik felt irritation begin to stir. What was he _grinning_ for? 

“We have too much fun together for you to let me die,” Tom asserted, his smile growing wider in the face of Robotnik’s indignation. 

He was about to slap that silly smirk straight off Wachowski’s face when the ceiling rumbled. Both men raised their gazes, but it was Tom who recovered from the shock first, and sent a first towards Robotnik’s face. Though the sheriff was weakened, the punch still _hurt_ , dammit! Clutching his cheek, Robotnik wheeled about as he watched Tom run towards the cell door.

His genius had anticipated an escape attempt like this. The glass had closed behind him when he’d entered the cell, and it wouldn’t open for anyone other than Robotnik or Agent Stone. Tom was trapped, like a rat in a cage. But it was fun to watch him struggle. 

“Wachowski, you’re going to pay dearly for that little temper tantrum.” He began to advance towards the other man, pleased to see that Tom had the decency to look despaired that he couldn’t get the door open. “I’m going to break every finger on that fist-happy hand. And then I will move on to the other.” Tom began to take backward steps, attempting to keep the distance between them.

When Tom reached the wall of the cell, he leaned against it, chest heaving. Robotnik continued to approach, gloves extended and fingers on the keys in warning. 

“Hey Egghead, why don’t you get away from my friend?”

Shock didn’t begin to describe what he felt at that moment. Turning to face the glass, Robotnik turned and saw the blue alien on the other side of the cell, big eyes narrowed in fury. Robotnik didn’t react for a moment, but when he did he flew into action. 

Buttons pressed in a precise sequence sent fifteen of his most aggressive drones after the alien, and then he himself was grabbing at Tom. The sheriff attempted to swing another fist at him, but he was ready this time. And the other man was just so pitifully weak after all of his abuse. 

“Let _go_!” Tom seethed, and he threw his body up against Robotnik’s, wriggling to get free. 

Oh yes, he would _definitely_ need to consult his human psychology texts as well as human biology books. Why would Tom’s movements entice him so? Especially at _this_ moment? Humans were ridiculous beings and he _loathed_ being one. 

The noise in the cell and corridor was deafening. Sonic was managing to dodge his drones’ missiles and machine gun fire, and Tom was hollering like a wildcat. A lesser man would have been overwhelmed by the sensory input. But not Robotnik! He gripped Tom in a koppōjutsu chokehold that had been taught to him when spending a year at the Kashihara Shrine. The sheriff was limp in his grip in a matter of moments. 

“Stone, get _down_ here!” he screamed into his glove’s communication speaker. The agent confirmed that he would be there in 52 seconds _exactly_ and that he was bringing backup. 

A feral grin found its way to his face. He was going to win! The alien couldn’t possibly defeat him on his home turf. And Tom was unconscious, helpless and in his grasp. Victory was just at hand. 

Sonic though, was not a being that intended to play fair, apparently. It appeared that he’d grown in his power since their last battle, and his movements, if faster than light and coordinated before, were now precise, smart, and measured. He’d grown as a fighter.

Only seven of Robotnik’s drones remained at that point. “This is too easy, Egghead!” Sonic laughed as he sped up to the ceiling, running in circles until a whirlwind sucked up another drone and smashed it into a comrade. 

Robotnik seethed, dropping Tom to the ground with an inelegant thump. “You brainless, vacuous, inane-” 

“Sticks and stones!” Sonic interrupted with another raucous laugh. He kicked out at a drone, launching it towards the burning remains of one of its fallen brothers. 

Chaos erupted further as Agent Stone and his comrades arrived. They were equipped with the latest tech and weapons that Robotnik had designed. They all blasted at the blue devil without preamble, and Robotnik cheered, thinking they’d hit him with the element of surprise. 

But Sonic was faster than before, and he did a backflip over the laser beams that shot at him. He landed gracefully, before he ran towards the humans that had arrived. Robotnik’s machines were powered by the single quill from the alien, but Stone and his humans were just that...mortal humans. Pathetic, worthless, inept. Sonic made short work of them. 

Sonic returned to the machines, hopping along each and removing wiring, or tricking them into shooting a fellow robot, using his speed to send them hurtling into the wall or ceiling. In a few minutes all of the drones were downed and Robotnik stared through the glass, hatred oozing from every pore. 

“I’ll take Donut Lord now.” Sonic leaned against the glass, casual, as if he hadn’t just defeated all of the best fighters in the warehouse. 

Robotnik pressed himself up against the barrier, and it would almost be comical, the way his face was mushed up against it, if he wasn’t so furious. “You’ll pry Wachowski from my cold dead fingers, you abomination.” 

Sonic laughed, not affected at all by his rage. “Lucky for you, I’m the sort of superhero that doesn’t kill.” 

Robotnik snarled, pulling away from the glass. “There’s no way in here, alien. And if you even try I’ll end your friend.” 

He was never wrong, and he was always prepared, but even a genius gets swept up and distracted when dealing with their greatest enemy. So really, it wasn’t his fault that he hadn’t performed the koppōjutsu chokehold long enough. And it certainly wasn’t his miscalculation that allowed Tom to regain his feet without Robotnik’s notice. The fist to his face was _also_ not his fault. 

This time Tom didn’t focus on the glass barrier. Instead he wrestled with the stunned Robotnik, going for his gloves. They wrestled together, bodies pressed up against one another in their desperate battle. Robotnik absolutely ignored his nether region’s interest in the proceedings. It was _not_ the time. 

It may have gone on like that forever, he and Tom grappling until one of them got the upper hand. But instead the alien interrupted with a “Uh hey guys?” and both men turned, staring at the open cell door. Sonic had the unconscious Agent Stone by the hand, and had obviously used his fingerprints to open the door. 

STONE. That incompetent neanderthal! Robotnik was already planning the subordinate's punishment when Tom released him, scrambling towards his blue friend. 

And suddenly, the location of Sonic, the scientific discoveries and capabilities that would be possible if he had the alien in his grasp… it all didn’t matter. In the face of Tom moving away, of the thought that the man he was so fascinated with not being here, panic gripped him. Fear was a foreign emotion. But he felt it now, and it was squeezing his chest, making it so he couldn’t breathe. 

Sonic and Tom embraced in a hug, and Robotnik felt insane jealousy at the tender display. “Hold on a second,” the alien said, and then he was gone. 

Tom looked towards Robotnik, wary. It was a fair reaction, because just that moment Robotnik clicked at his gloves, summoning every drone possible as he made his way over to Tom, intent on getting him back. 

And then Sonic returned, quick as he was gone. “Egghead, you and your henchmen may want to get out of here. You’ve got about…” He pretended to look at a watch on his wrist that was not there. “One minute until this whole place explodes.” The alien beamed at him, proud of himself.

How had that little cretin found the self destruct button?! Robotnik growled, realizing the choice that faced him. If he didn’t use his drones to carry all of the unconscious men to safety then the government would cut his funding. They already thought he was a loose canon, and if he let all of the men die over his obsession, they’d have no problem cutting ties with him. And without funding...well, how would he build and maintain his precious robots?

“I’ll never stop chasing you.” 

It was said to Sonic, but his eyes shifted, gazing at Tom. 

“I’ll be waiting, Egghead.” Sonic helped Tom stand up straighter, and his eyes were soft as he gazed at the injured man, a deep love there that filled Robotnik with resentment. 

Sonic hadn’t grown any taller, but it seemed he was stronger. He couldn’t quite lift Tom, but he was able to support him, and they began to hobble away, apparently content that Robotnik would choose self preservation over capturing them. 

Robotnik almost decided to take them down. It would be worth it, to witness their surprise at his choice, to rid himself of the manacles that the government held him in. But his confidence in himself stayed his hand. He would grow from this encounter. He would watch the surveillance tapes over and over and _over_ , studying them until he built the perfect drone to take on the alien. 

And if his schemes included a foolproof cell for Tom, well, that was just all part of the plan too.

**Author's Note:**

> I stole some of the banter insults off the web. 😬


End file.
